


go your own way (I'd give you my world)

by itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)



Category: Forrest Gump (1994), Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Cuddling, Dancing, Fluff, Forrest Gump AU, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Letters, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pining, Through the Years, Walking, War Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmyusualweeb/pseuds/itsmyusualphannie
Summary: “I’m Dan,” said Dan.Phil could not look away from him. He thought that Dan was probably the prettiest boy he had ever seen. “I’m Phil,” he said back, because it was polite to introduce oneself to people, otherwise they would remain a stranger. “Phil Lester.”And so they became friends.or: a Forrest Gump AU where Phil slowly falls for his best friend as the years go by, but Dan loses himself to the world and his past.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	go your own way (I'd give you my world)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanDanAndPhilNot (enbycalhoun)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycalhoun/gifts).



> my friend: you're the queen of crack could you write a forrest gump au where phil is forrest and dan is his jenny?  
> me: did you say angst with a happy ending?
> 
> my crack title has failed me i'm so sorry cal. have this present regardless! it was meant to be for your anniversary (hi cal's partner) but it's uhhhh quite late.
> 
> huge kudos to [lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com/) who is my hero for beta-ing this and putting up with me. check out their fics, they're amazing! honorable mention to [kei](https://irlsero.tumblr.com/) who also had to put up with my bullshit for the past two months as i wrote this in slow bursts.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy!

Phil Lester met his very good friend Dan Howell on his first day of school. The bus was a faded yellow, and the driver raised an unimpressed eyebrow as Phil hesitated before climbing aboard.

Everyone on the bus just stared at him, but Dan offered the seat next to him, so Phil sat down beside him.

“I’m Dan,” said Dan.

Phil could not look away from him. He thought that Dan was probably the prettiest boy he had ever seen. “I’m Phil,” he said back, because it was polite to introduce oneself to people, otherwise they would remain a stranger. “Phil Lester.”

And so they became friends.

  
  


Phil Lester did not have a very strong body. He was thin and frail; “scrawny” the doctor called him as he fixed braces to Phil’s legs to keep his back from twisting further, but he had good legs. He had such good legs that one day when he was walking home with Dan and bullies began chasing him, he ran and he ran until those leg braces snapped clean off.

It felt thrilling, like a sort of fresh start to his life.

“Run, Phil, run!” he could still hear Dan’s voice calling far behind him, far behind the bullies who were slowly losing ground on him.

He ran.

  
  


Phil did not like Dan’s dad very much. He yelled, and he smelled like something awful, and Dan was quiet around him. Sometimes, Dan didn’t come to school because he had bruises across his face or chest or legs and he said he had fallen down the stairs or into a wall. Dan must be very clumsy then, Phil thought, even clumsier than Phil, because there were only two steps that led up into Dan’s house, and he had never seen Dan stumble on them.

One day, with the echoing yells of Dan’s father somewhere across the cornfield, Dan took Phil’s hand and pulled him to the ground between the thick rows of ripening corn stalks.

“Pray with me,” he begged Phil, and his brown eyes were round and sad, like they only ever were around Dan’s dad. “Your mum believes in a God, right? Pray with me that he can turn me into a bird so I can fly far away from here.”

Phil did not particularly want Dan to turn into a bird, much less fly away, as he did not see how they could still be very good friends if Dan did so. But he bent his head anyway, and he prayed with Dan.

God must have been only half-listening because Dan did not turn into a bird, but the police did come to take Dan to his grandmother’s house a little while later. Phil was more than pleased with this, because Dan’s grandmother’s house was even closer to his own than Dan’s dad’s house had been.

  
  


Phil never did stop running. His legs grew stronger and stronger, and a few days after his fifteenth birthday when he was running from the old bullies who were once again chasing him, he took a detour across a large field with a group of people fighting over a ball. He passed everyone else who was running on the field, and he did not slow down for any of them.

A few days later, a guy who called himself “Coach” asked Phil if he wanted to carry a ball while he ran across the field again. Phil didn’t see any problems with that, so he agreed.

It came with an added bonus of Dan, with his dimpled grins and soft dark curls, cheering him on from the sidelines.

  
  


He turned eighteen, and he was still running with a ball across a field. No one had ever caught him.

His mum cried when he told her that a university wanted to pay for him to go to their campus to keep running with balls, and then she hugged him and told him that they weren’t sad tears, but happy tears. This was somewhat confusing, but Phil was glad that she was happy, so he hugged her back.

When he told Dan, his very good friend smiled and bumped shoulders with him, and then he told him that he was going to a university just across the city from Phil’s. They would still be close.

Phil felt some strange feeling bubble in his chest, so he did what his mum had done and he gave Dan a hug. Dan yelped, then laughed and hugged back.

  
  


One day, when Phil went across half of the city to see Dan at his college, he waited over two hours for Dan to come back to his dorm. He waited outside the dorm building, standing below the overhang to avoid the drizzling rain, holding in one hand a box of chocolates that he had brought for Dan.

When a car pulled up and Phil saw Dan inside, barely visible past the fogged glass but audibly making loud noises at whatever the other occupant was doing to him, Phil reacted without thinking.

Dan threw himself out of the other side of the car and yelled at Phil after he pulled him off the driver. “Phil, no! Stop! Fuck, Charlie, I’m sorry, don’t - ”

The driver cursed at them both and slammed the door, and the car drove away, spitting water from its tires.

“Shit,” said Dan, and he turned toward Phil with dark eyes and hair that was trailing damp strands down his cheeks. “Phil, why did you do that?”

Phil hesitated before offering the cardboard box of chocolates. It was damp beneath his fingers. “I brought chocolate.”

Sighing, Dan swept a hand over his forehead, sending rain droplets spattering, and then he reached out and took Phil’s hand. “All right, come on inside.”

Dan took Phil’s clothes once they were in Dan’s dorm, stripping him to his underpants and then wrapping him in a blanket on the bed. His roommate was in bed, back to them and snoring loudly.

And then Dan took off his own wet shirt, tossing it to the floor and slumping back against his pillows, and Phil couldn’t look away from his chest, the rosy hue of his nipples, the soft concave of his stomach.

Dan noticed. He always noticed. His voice was quiet when he asked, “Have you ever been with a girl, Phil?”

Phil did not say anything. He just looked at him.

Dan’s eyes were doe-brown in the light from the lamp. He leaned forward, folding his long fingers around Phil’s hand and then bringing it to his own chest.

He was warm, flesh soft and giving beneath Phil’s touch. Phil’s thumb brushed over a pebbled nipple, and Dan breathed in sharply, and Phil yanked his hand away.

Dan was quiet for a moment, and then he smiled a small smile and leaned away. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. His eyelashes were long and damp against his cheeks. “You know what I want to do someday?” he finally said. “I want to sing for people. Play the piano.”

Phil knew this. Dan had talked about it since he was young. But he never tired of listening, so he listened again now, gaze intense on Dan’s face as he talked.

  
  


The day of his graduation ceremony, he and his mum were getting pictures together when a man in a very sharp green suit and a stiff hat approached them. He handed a pamphlet to Phil and his voice was inviting but crisp when he said, “Have you thought about your future?”

Phil joined the armed forces the next week.

  
  


On a brief leave, Phil found Dan in a pub tucked behind hidden streets. He watched from the back of the pub, spine stiff and hands held at his side by an instinct that had been drilled into him through the past months of training. Curtains parted to reveal Dan. He was sitting on a piano stool, head ducked and voice low as his fingers ran nimbly across the piano and he sang to the patrons of the bar.

The man who had introduced him had called him “Dannie Howler,” and Dan was wearing nothing but skin-tight boxers.

When the catcalling began, Dan’s eyes flashed in anger, but the men didn’t stop and began reaching for Dan’s naked legs. Phil moved without thinking, like he had done at university years ago.

Dan yelled at him this time too, but Phil did not stop. He picked Dan up and he did not run for once, but he clutched Dan’s bare body close to his new armed forces jacket and he took him from the stage as jeers and calls echoed behind them.

They walked in the dark of twilight afterwards, and Dan was no longer bristling with anger. The moon was rising over the horizon, but street lamps lit their way as they followed the pavement.

Phil told him about what Dan had missed while they were apart. He told him about learning of the existence of Dr. Pepper, of drinking so much he desperately needed to pee afterwards; he told him about basic training and the new friend he had made - PJ was a best friend, Phil told Dan, but not a very good best friend like Dan was.

And then when their shoes clacked against the brick of a bridge, Dan turned around to face him. “You can’t keep doing this,” he said, and his usually-expressive eyes were shuttered. “You can’t keep swooping in and thinking that you’re saving me.”

“I can’t stop myself,” Phil said helplessly, and the next words left his lips before he could stop them. “I love you.”

Dan was quiet, and he seemed so, so tired. “Phil, you don’t know what love is.” He turned and he faced the water beneath the bridge, and it was only then with the light on his dull hair that Phil noticed it was straightened.

“You remember that time we prayed, Phil?” he said. “We prayed for God to turn me into a bird so I could fly far, far away?”

Phil wanted to step closer to him, but he didn’t. “Yeah,” he said instead.

Dan leaned forward, fingers curling tight around the railing of the bridge like they had once gripped Phil’s. He ran his tongue over his chapped lips and his voice was soft when he said, “You think I could fly off this bridge?”

“What do you mean, Dan?” Phil took one hesitant step closer, but Dan stepped back from the railing and scoffed quietly, shaking his head.

“Nothing. Nothing.” He turned toward the middle of the bridge just as approaching headlights flashed across them. “Fuck, I’ve got to get out of here.” He waved at the car, stumbling almost as he reached the road, and it slowed, window rolling down.

“Just… stay away from me, Phil, please,” he said, and leaned into the window of the car that stopped beside him. “Can I get a ride? Anywhere, please.”

But Phil couldn’t stay away from him, and he followed, although his steps faltered. “Bye, Dan!” he called after him, but when Dan looked back at him, hair falling across his forehead, he added, “They’re sending me to the war,” which was the one thing he had not told Dan when they were walking earlier.

Dan stopped and his face was pale beneath the street lights and the waning moon above. He stepped back toward Phil and took his hand. He seemed torn, voice wavering as he said, “Listen, Phil, just promise me one thing. If you ever get in trouble, don’t try to stick around and be brave. Just run, okay? Like I told you when we were young.”

“Okay,” said Phil, and Dan dropped his hand and stepped back toward the car. “I’ll… I’ll write you all the time!”

Dan didn’t say anything, but he looked back once more, hair dusty in the moonlight, and then he stepped into the car and he was gone, just like that.

  
  


_Dan,_

_We just landed. PJ and I are sharing a tent with very many other people. It is loud but everyone is friendly. The food is good, even though it is not like back home. I hope you are eating good food, too. We met our new captain. He told us to wear good socks and to not die, which I think is very good advice._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_It started raining a few days ago and it hasn’t stopped. Everything is wet. This has been my first chance to get dry enough to write a letter. Captain Chris told us about his family and how one of them in each generation has died in a war. He said it is his destiny to die in this war. This does not make sense, because he told us to not die. I do not plan on dying either. I want to see you again._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_It is still raining. It is very hard to wear good socks when they are wet all of the time. I have talked with PJ a lot. He is a best friend, I think, but not like you. He talks about his family a lot._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_I miss you and Mum. I hope you are okay. I have walked so much that I think I have forgotten how to run. Captain Chris is very alert. He is always telling us to duck to cover when no one is there. We are heading into “thick enemy territory,” he told us. It is still wet, but I keep my gun very clean._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_It stopped raining. When the sun came out, the first thing I thought of was you._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_We were caught in an ambush. PJ died. I did not forget how to run, after all._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_I am in the hospital next to Captain Chris. He is very upset with me for pulling him out of the line of fire. They say I’m going to get a Victory Cross for pulling many other people out too. I’ve started playing this game called “ping pong.” All I have to do is keep my eye on the ball. I think you would like this game. We can play it together someday._

_Phil_

  
  


_Dan,_

_I just got back all of the letters that I sent you. I guess I will not send this one. I think I do know what love is, Dan._

_Phil_

  
  


Phil stepped onto the street outside of the building where he had just been awarded his Victory Cross and he stared up at the clear sky. It was very different from the clouds of the past year. The tall buildings, clear glass, and paved roads were much different as well.

He started walking.

  
  


He found Dan. Or, Dan found him.

It didn’t matter, really.

They walked together, talking as they wound through the streets of the city. It was late afternoon when they started, and they stopped at a small cafe for dinner, but it was twilight when they stopped just inside a wide plaza that was busy with slow-moving vehicles and bustling pedestrians.

Phil had left the letters at the hospital when he had been discharged. He did not think he would have given them to Dan even if he had remembered them. It was much better to catch up in person.

But Dan didn’t talk very much about himself, or what he had been doing, although he did say he had been travelling and “expanding his mind.” Phil listened intently to every word, but he couldn’t help but notice that Dan’s fingers _tap-tap_ ped against his thighs like they did when he hadn’t played the piano for a while. There were faint yellow splotches of an old bruise under his right eye, too, and Phil did not think that Dan had tripped down some steps or run into a wall to cause that.

“Did it ever stop raining?” Dan asked when Phil told him about the constant downpour.

Phil gave in to his impulse and he reached out and caught Dan’s restless hand. Dan let him, fingers curling around Phil’s, but he didn’t look at Phil while he did so. “Yes. One day, it just stopped. The skies were clear at night. There were stars everywhere.”

“It must have been beautiful,” Dan said, his voice soft.

“It was,” Phil agreed, but he was looking at Dan. Dan was not looking back.

Phil reached out and he pressed a careful thumb to the faint colouring beneath Dan’s eye. “Who did this?”

Dan just shook his head.

“I would never hurt you, Dan,” Phil said quietly. Dan was staring off into the distance, gaze caught on a van with tall windows that was driving around the plaza toward them. “Dan… I wanted to be your boyfriend.”

Now Dan looked at him, but his eyes were lost and his mouth set in a sad smile. “I’m not good for you, Phil. I’m not good for anyone, I don’t think.”

“Dan,” Phil said, helpless against that look on Dan’s face and the darkening sky above.

The tall van stopped on the pavement beside them, and a woman with cropped blonde hair poked her head out one of the windows. “Dannie boy!” she shouted. “Let’s go!”

Dan turned toward Phil, wrapping his fingers around Phil’s. He smiled, but it wasn’t any better than that first one. “It was good to catch up, Phil. I’ll see you around.”

“Wait!” Phil said, and he pulled the short red ribbon with its dangling bronze cross and pressed it into Dan’s hand. Dan looked at it with furrowed brows and glanced up to Phil.

“Phil, I can’t keep this.”

Phil thought of the smoke and the fire and the bodies he had carried through the thick forest while he was looking for PJ, who hadn’t even made it. He thought of how Dan had told him to run, and how that was exactly what he had done. “I got it just by doing what you told me to do,” he said.

Shaking his head just a bit, Dan folded his fingers around the Victory Cross and held it to his chest. “Why are you so good to me?” he asked Phil, quiet and solemn, and Phil could only answer with the first words that came to mind. The truth.

“You’re my boy,” he said, and Dan’s face slowly broke into a smile, a _real_ smile, this time.

“I’ll always be your boy,” he told Phil, and then he hugged him, tight and warm, but Phil missed him before he even let go.

Dan got in the bus, and it rumbled as it started up. He waved out the back of the window as it pulled away, but Phil could only stand still and watch as Dan left him once again.

Another goodbye.

  
  


Phil started playing ping pong again. He was very good at keeping his eye on the ball, as it turned out, and someone important must have seen him doing it, because he got invited to a tournament.

A few dozen successful tournaments and a sponsorship later, he stopped by the house of PJ’s family. Phil did not have much need for all of this money he’d gotten from the tournament, and PJ had talked about his family a lot, so when PJ’s mum invited him in for tea, he gave her an envelope before he left. She didn’t open it and see the number on the check until after he was gone, so he didn’t see her faint right on her kitchen floor.

He was visiting Captain Chris in his flat, catching up and helping him drink too many beers, when he got a call about his mum.

Phil got home on a Saturday. He sat by his mum’s bed and held her hand all Sunday and Monday, and she died on Tuesday. His mum’s lawyer gave him her will on Wednesday. She had left the house to him.

Friday afternoon, after the funeral, Phil sat on the porch and watched birds flutter around the tree that he and Dan had played around and climbed on when they were young.

 _Run_ , _Phil, run!_ Dan had told him then.

Phil stood from the bench, put on his shoes, and began running. He got to the end of the drive, and he figured if he made it down here, he might as well make it to the end of town; he got to the end of town, and he figured he might as well make it to the next town; he got there, and he kept going.

He got to the ocean, and he watched the waves crash against the shore for a few moments before he turned around and began running again.

When he reached the ocean again, he turned right back around and kept going.

He acquired a following. People started jogging behind him, and the crowd grew as the weeks passed. Phil did not know what they wanted. He did not talk to them, and they did not bother him as he ran.

He ran, and he ran, and one day, his feet slowed on the pavement of a road between two sloping hills. The group of followers stopped as he turned around to face them, but he wasn’t looking at them. He looked at the horizon, where his mum’s house - his house, now - lay somewhere out of sight.

“I’m pretty tired,” he said, and realized it was true. His hair was long and his chin full of stubble, and his feet ached. “Think I’ll go home now.”

The followers parted as he walked between them, but he didn’t listen to their quiet whispers as they wondered what they would do now.

He went home.

  
  


Phil was a little famous, someone told him a few days after he made it back to the house. A lot of people saw him running and he made it on the news often. They thought he was inspirational, he was told.

There was nothing that Phil could do with that information, so he got a lawnmower from the city council and he began cutting grass in the public spaces. He had no want for money, so he might as well.

But at night time when there was nothing to do and the house was all empty, he would always think of Dan.

  
  


One afternoon, when the sky was clear and the lawn fresh with the scent of cut grass, Phil got a letter from Dan.

  
  


_Dear Phil,_

_I hope you’re doing well. It’s been too long since we’ve spoken, and I miss you. The past few years, especially after graduation, have not been well for me, but you probably knew that. I travelled for so long that I almost forgot what it felt like to stay in one place for longer than a day or two. I discovered new thoughts, ate new foods, and met new people, but I never found anyone quite like you. The best parts of those years were when I saw you again._

_I started renting a flat a few months ago. I got a job as a waiter, but more exciting is that I have a gig playing the piano at a local home for the elderly._

_I think I’ve finally discovered some happiness, Phil. It feels so good._

_If you aren’t too busy in the next few weeks, I’d love to come down to see you. I’m keeping a book with all the clippings of newspapers you’ve been in with your award, your ping pong tournaments, and all your running around the country._

_Love,_

_(hopefully still) your boy, Dan_

  
  


Dan visited the next week.

The first thing that Phil noticed when he opened the door was Dan’s hair. It wasn’t straightened as it had been since before he started university, replaced by curls draping across his forehead. The next thing that he noticed was Dan’s eyes. They were their usual soft, dark brown, but crinkled around the edges.

The last time Phil had seen him smile like that was at one of Phil’s games when they were teenagers. He hadn’t realized he had missed it so much until now.

“Hello, Phil,” said Dan.

“Hello, Dan,” replied Phil, and he could feel his own face breaking into a smile that he also hadn’t smiled since they were teenagers. He wrapped his arms around Dan and hugged him tightly. Dan hugged him back. He was wearing the Victory Cross that Phil had given him on his lapel. Everything felt _right_ again.

  
  


They went for a walk.

They went for a lot of walks, in fact; over the next few days, their feet traversed the same narrow paths, cracked asphalt roads, and shortcuts through fields that they had taken when they were young.

And they talked. It wasn’t just Phil this time, either. Dan talked too, about his journeys across the country over the past few years, about his relationships, his experiences, his lows and his highs, and finally, his current life in a tiny flat with little but a piano and a bed.

Phil talked about his own adventures during their time apart, too. He talked about the war, and his good friend PJ, and that day when everything had gone to hell; he talked about recovery, and Captain Chris in the hospital bed next to him, and the letters; he talked about the ping pong tournaments and too much money and his mum dying. He talked about running and running and running until all of his running left him and he came back home.

Dan listened, and he talked quietly when needed, and he cried when he heard about Phil’s mum.

Phil needed nothing more than this. The sun warm on his back and bare neck with no sun in sight; their shoes padding against the dirt, the grass, the asphalt; Dan’s shoulder bumping into his as they walked; Dan’s curls especially curly over his forehead.

  
  


“You could move in with me,” said Phil that first night. “I have this big house all to myself. You could play the piano for the people in town. In the restaurants or the bars.”

Dan looked thoughtful. “I’ll consider it,” he said, and Phil knew that he would.

After they were dressed for bed, Phil was ready to offer one of the guest bedrooms, but Dan shook his head. He climbed into Phil’s bed and he curled against Phil as they slept.

When Phil woke, Dan was still asleep next to him, breathing tiny snores and drooling a little bit and his left cheek was a bit rumpled from where he’d slept on it against the blanket.

Phil had never slept better in his life.

  
  


Three days after Dan came, they walked so far that when they rounded the corner of the road, Dan’s old house slumped before them. It was weathered and disused, abandoned in the overgrown yard. The cornfield that had once lain behind it in resplendent yellow was nothing but a tangled mess of weeds.

Phil could still remember the first day he’d seen Dan with a bruise splotched across his jaw, hiding under the weary front porch as the school bus waited for him and then continued on without him. He remembered Dan’s father, face red with rage as he screamed for Dan one evening when he was late for dinner.

Dan stopped, toes scuffing in the dirt as he hesitated. His gaze bored into the old house left empty for years. Finally, he bent down and picked up a few rocks, tossing them in his hand. Then he threw them.

They clattered against the old wood planks of the outside, but one caught the windows that still remained intact, and it shattered satisfactorily. Glass sprinkled the rotting porch.

Dan sighed, something weary that sounded like all of the air had left his lungs in order to do it, and then he dropped the last rock before throwing it.

He reached out and took Phil’s hand in his. Phil’s fingers tightened instinctively.

“Let’s go home, Phil,” said Dan.

  
  


Dan brought him flowers in the afternoon. He put some of them in a vase, but he tucked a single vibrant blue one behind Phil’s ear, and he smiled as he did it.

“Am I pretty now?” Phil asked him.

Dan’s eyes were soft as he nodded. “You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” he said.

Just before bed, Dan put on a slow melody of piano and violin music. He stepped close to Phil, directing him where to place his hands, and they swayed together on the wide porch, the moon scattering speckled light across them.

Dan closed his eyes as they moved, lips tilted in a smile, but Phil watched him, lost to the feeling of Dan’s body warm against his, the splay of Dan’s eyelashes against his cheeks, the gentle timbre of the music floating around them.

When Phil kissed him, Dan fell into it like he’d been waiting for it for years. It could have been hours before they parted. Phil finally opened his eyes, although he hadn’t known he’d closed them, but when he did, he saw the tear tracks that were fading on Dan’s cheeks.

Dan wiped at his eyes and laughed. “They’re good tears, Phil.”

Phil brushed his thumb over one of Dan’s dimples where a tear was nestling. “I love you, Dan,” he said quietly.

“I know you do,” said Dan, and he kissed him again. “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, Phil. I was a fool not to say it before.”

The music spooled to a stop, but they hadn’t been moving for a few minutes now. The stars were out now, pinpricks of light dotted across the night sky, but they didn’t look anywhere but at each other.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Phil asked, hushed in the silence that had fallen once the music faded.

Dan’s hands fell to catch Phil’s fingers. “Yeah,” he said.

They went inside together, and the door shut behind them.

They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post](https://itsmyusualphannie.tumblr.com/post/621747659458363392/go-your-own-way-id-give-you-my-world)


End file.
